


Camels and Tiaras

by LadyBrooke



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-12 09:02:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBrooke/pseuds/LadyBrooke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gil-galad had hoped that Elrond had put all the strange habits he had learned from Maglor and Maedhros behind him. Unfortunately, he hasn't, and now he's burst into a pre-war planning meeting with very important people from other realms. Gil-galad really could have done without the discussion of Isildur's lack of pants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Camels and Tiaras

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by various parts of animated version of The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings.

"Ereinion! We have a huge problem!" Elrond had just burst open the door to the council room, and Gil-galad was a little shocked. Not by Elrond claiming that there was problems (he was a bit of a drama queen, and every week, there was some new problem that absolutely, positively, would result in the end of the world according to Elrond) but because he had thought that Elrond had managed to escape the insanity present in Fëanor's line. Since Elrond was not a blood descendant, it shouldn't have been present, but still, Elrond had been raised by Maglor and Maedhros. When he thought about that amount of time it had taken to convince Elrond that it was not appropriate to wear the Star of Fëanor on all his clothes, and that yes, the Star was the reason all the Sindar were giving him dirty looks, and that no, it wasn't entirely unreasonable for them to hate his foster parents, and what do you mean that Dior was an idiot Elrond, he was your grandfather. Those had been a bad group of years.

Going back to his present problem however, Elrond had somewhere acquired a – well, he wasn't entirely sure what it was, but it looked like a bunch of glowing balls of light floating around his head. Judging by the stares coming from the other delegates at the meeting, and the mutters coming from Celeborn (and that did not bode well for Elrond's chances of marriage), he wasn't the only one that had noticed how odd it looked. "Elrond, before we discuss this problem, could I talk to you privately for a moment?"

"Ereinion, this is a huge problem, and we really need to-" Elrond cut off, looking around the room. "Lord Elendil, are you not wearing any pants? Oh dear, I knew that I should have insisted that Vardamir put his pants on when he visited, but Elros insisted that boys would be boys, and he'd grow out of it eventually."

Gil-galad grabbed Elrond by the arm, and began to pull him from the room. Hopefully, Elrond had not just ruined their alliance; it was hard enough to get deal with the lack of support from Oropher, without Elrond ruining their alliance over the Men's lack of pants. Granted, it was a little weird, and he wished Isildur would put on a longer tunic if he wasn't going to wear them, but they all just had to deal with it. When they finally reached his office, Gil-galad shut to door behind them, and released Elrond's arm. "Elrond, would you please not insult our guests? We need all the alliances we can get, and pants are not something that we need to get in an argument over."

"But do you know what the lack of hygiene, combined with the lack of pants could cause? Even just the lack of pants by themselves, combined with sitting in a saddle all day could cause nerve damage if the –" Ereinion finally cut him off.

"ELROND! I do not want to hear about any problems that our allies might be having concerning that area of the body! Now, what was the original problem?" Ereinion could already feel the head ache pounding into his head.

"Oh! As I was going to say originally, there are not enough horses for us all to ride on. How are we going to make it to the battle?" Clearly, Elrond had no idea what a true problem was. True problems were things like your herald destroying 100 years work, just to complain about a lack of horses.

"I don't know, can't you find some camels or llamas or something? We'll figure it out," Ereinion said, still trying to think of how he would explain away Elrond's appearance and words. It would be difficult, but as King, it was his responsibility to deal with all of this.

"Camels! That's a marvelous idea, Ereinion, I'll go see if I can find some right now, I know that Círdan was mumbling something about them last time I saw him, so I'll go contact him and see if he knows where any of them are," Elrond reached for the door handle as they both made to leave the room.

Suddenly, Gil-galad remembered what had first bothered him about Elrond today. "Elrond, I have one last question for you, if you would be so kind as to stay a moment."

Elrond nodded, "Of course I will. What question do you have?"

Trying to think a diplomatic way to ask, he failed, so decided to cut straight to the chase. "The thing on your head. What is it, and where in the world did you get it from?"  


"This?" Elrond looked vaguely puzzled as he reached up and touched it. "Oh! This is one of Fëanor's old circlets, Maglor inherited it when his father died, and he gave it to me the last time I saw him. I found it as I was cleaning out a trunk today, and decided to wear it. Isn't it lovely?"

Various words for the thing had run through Gil-galad's mind since he first saw it, however, lovely was not one of them. Blinding, however, had been one, and it came as no surprise to him that Fëanor was the one that had originally worn that. "Err, yes, it is. Well, I have to be back to the council meeting, and you need to go find some camels. I shall see you at the evening meal."

Elrond nodded enthusiastically, and for a moment, Gil-galad was reminded of the lights that the mortals always claimed to see before death. "Until then," he said as he left the room.

As Gil-galad wandered back down the hallway towards the council room, a thought suddenly struck him. If Elrond was wearing his foster father's heirlooms, there was no telling when he would be begin wearing the Star of Fëanor again. As he mercilessly squashed the urge to bang his head into the wall, he began to pray that the upcoming war would be enough to make Elrond forget about it for a little while.

Hopefully without taking up any of his foster family's other habits, like kinslaying or forging evil jewelry. If he did, it might really be the end of the world.


End file.
